


Afford

by Klitch



Series: Afford [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6650476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klitch/pseuds/Klitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are, after all, the one person I cannot afford to lose.” Maybe it was only because it could be their last night, but Fushimi allows it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afford

**Author's Note:**

> And one more for Reisaru Day, enjoy the melancholy depressing smut ^^

"Please come in, Fushimi-kun." 

Fushimi nodded in reply as he opened the door to Munakata's private room. He'd been here before, of course, and though it was rare for them to meet in Munakata's room rather than the office it wasn't unheard of and so he'd thought nothing of it when Munakata had requested Fushimi meet him here after hours. 

The room was darker than usual, the lights turned down, and Munakata sat in a chair against the opposite wall. He was wearing a robe in place of his usual uniform though Fushimi was in full dress and Fushimi wondered again why they were meeting in this place and if he'd misunderstood something. 

His usual meetings in Munakata's room were, after all, generally for mutual stress relief purposes only and normally Munakata made that quite clear upon requesting Fushimi's presence in his room after work. This invitation, however, had been strictly business-related, making the choice of venue and Munakata's mode of dress all the stranger. Beyond that, they were still preparing for tomorrow's planned defense of Mihashira Tower against jungle and Fushimi had intended to get some actual sleep for once tonight in preparation. 

"So? What did you call me in here for?" Fushimi leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, keeping his confusion carefully disguised under a layer of impatience. Munakata simply smiled, unruffled. 

"I perhaps thought we might go over the contingency plan one more time. That being what it is, it seemed this would be the best venue for it." 

Ah. That explained it then, and Fushimi shifted. Most of the rooms in Scepter 4 headquarters were covered with hidden cameras but Munakata's room was one of the few that had none. If they were by any chance being spied on by jungle, their conversation in this room would remain confidential. 

"What else is there to go over?" Fushimi clicked his tongue irritably. "If the defense fails, it's my job to betray you and join jungle, right?" 

There, he'd said it. Fushimi was thankful his voice hadn't shaken at all, calm and collected as always. Only a slight clench of his fingers betrayed any sign that he was at all troubled by the mission that had been set in front of him. 

Not that he was, of course. He'd been surprised, perhaps, when Munakata had given him the parameters of the mission after the meeting with the Silver King. 'Should the defense fail and the Slate be taken, infiltrate jungle by any means necessary.' 

A mission that could only be undertaken by one whose loyalties to any one King were already in doubt. A mission that carried with it the high risk of being discovered and the higher risk of death whether he succeeded or not. 

He'd accepted it, of course. That was his job and always had been: accept any mission given and complete it to the utmost of his abilities. Munakata did not give orders that he did not believe could not be followed and he would not assign Fushimi a mission that was guaranteed to end in failure. 

He could succeed in this mission and still die, of course, and Fushimi knew that they were both aware of it. 

"You may still refuse the mission, if you so desire," Munakata said. His voice was as calm as always, no indication that he would judge Fushimi either way if he chose to back out now. "Make no mistake, Fushimi-kun. I am asking you to risk your life for an unclear goal. If you choose to reject it I will in no way punish you for it. I leave the decision in your hands, as the one who will run the biggest risk." 

"But you're not in the best shape to say that either, right?" Fushimi said it almost without thinking and Munakata laughed softly, as if it didn't bother him at all, the sharp words or the damaged Sword that they both knew hung above his head. 

"Even so." 

"You think the Silver King's plan will fail." It wasn't a question but he knew Munakata would answer anyway. 

"I believe it is best to be prepared in all circumstances," Munakata said simply. "And beyond that...Hisui Nagare is no fool, to use such a direct attack that relies on his power alone. I have no evidence for this, of course, yet I cannot help but feel...uneasy, perhaps, about tomorrow's offensive. Therefore I feel it best to have some insurance, if you will, in case the worst were to occur." 

“Then it's fine, isn't?” Fushimi shrugged. “That's what you brought me into Scepter 4 for in the first place, after all. To carry out any mission you assign to me.” 

“I do have all confidence in your abilities,” Munakata said with a slight laugh. “Even so, I would not send you on a mission that could risk your life if you did not wish to undertake it. Do not think of this as an order, Fushimi-kun, but rather a suggestion.” 

“There's no problem, then,” Fushimi said. He felt a sudden chill run through him and couldn't explain why, only pulled his coat closer around his body. “I'm the only one who could do this, after all. Only a traitor could get close enough to jungle in order to infiltrate them.” 

“Perhaps.” Munakata's eyes were hooded. “But I think you misunderstand my reasoning, Fushimi-kun. I am giving you this mission because I trust in your ability to carry it out to its fullest. I intend for you to return to me afterward, unharmed if possible. As my only contingency, I put my full trust in you.” 

He looked Fushimi full in the face then, calm as always but with something beneath it all that made Fushimi take a step backwards. 

"If that's all then I'm going to bed," Fushimi said shortly. Something in Munakata's tone and expression was making him feel uneasy, the ever present reminder humming in the back of his head that wouldn't let him forget exactly what could happen if they failed tomorrow. 

_“I intend for you to return to me afterward, unharmed.”_ So easy to say and less so to make a reality. They both knew the possible outcome of this mission, regardless of its success. 

_(And beyond that, beyond himself, always that Sword of Damocles hanging above Munakata's head.)_

“I confess, I did have an ulterior motive for inviting you here.” Munakata stood then and stepped forward, one hand reaching out to brush against Fushimi's bangs, and Fushimi felt himself relax slightly. 

“Tch. Is that all you wanted? You should have said so from the start, Captain.” Not that Fushimi had any particular complaint about it. They'd done this sort of thing before after all – mouth and skin and hands upon each other, just enough for each to climax and then leave without another word. Fushimi didn't particularly place much importance on it, all told. He knew full well that there were still members on Scepter 4 who, if they knew about his visits to Munakata's room, would make comments about how he'd only gotten his position and his single room in exchange for giving “favors” to the Blue King but Fushimi gave no mind to that sort of thing. Munakata wasn't the type of person to be so easily swayed by physical things. 

That was one of the reasons Fushimi had joined him, after all. 

“My apologies. I wished to speak with you properly first.” Munakata's hands were still running through his hair and Fushimi allowed himself to relax just a bit – as much as he ever truly could relax, anyway – resting his head against the crook of Munakata's neck, Munakata's heartbeat steady in his ear. “There isn't much time left, after all. Should the defense fail your mission will begin as soon as the Slate is taken. I doubt we will be able to come back to this place one more time.” 

“Not until the mission is complete, right?” Fushimi felt the sardonic smile wind its way across his face. As though either or both of them would even be in a position to return to Scepter 4 once the mission was completed. “You've gotten sentimental, Captain.” 

“Perhaps.” Munakata laughed quietly as one hand cupped Fushimi's chin and tilted his head upward, his own head angling downward for the kiss. Fushimi allowed it, a small noise escaping his lips as Munakata's mouth roughly captured his own, the kiss slow and yet almost...desperate, a drowning man clinging to a raft, and Fushimi wasn't even sure which one of them it was that was drowning. 

Or maybe both of them were, as Munakata's hands grasped at his shoulders and he found himself being steered backwards towards the bed. His coat fell to the floor as Fushimi was pushed back onto the bed, Munakata kneeling on top of him, never breaking the kiss as his hands began to undo the buttons on Fushimi's waistcoat. 

“Captain...” Fushimi breathed the word half into Munakata's mouth, not resisting even as Munakata's hands continued to work at his clothing. It was rare that they would bother to strip completely – they hadn't done anything beyond oral sex or the occasional handjob and so there was little reason to actually remove all their clothes. Munakata's own clothes hung open loosely and Fushimi was sharply aware of how suddenly the thin barriers between them were being stripped away. 

“If you wish me to stop, only say so.” Munakata's words were calm even as he removed the last of Fushimi's shirt, long fingers tracing a line down Fushimi's chest. Fushimi followed the track of Munakata's fingers, watching the rise and fall of his own chest and he wondered when he'd begun breathing so hard, feeling almost light-headed as he angled his head to meet Munakata's eyes. 

“It's fine.” He wasn't completely certain that it was and Munakata seemed to be aware of that as he kissed Fushimi again, letting his hands grasp at Fushimi's skin, tongue tracing the arch of his throat. 

It was slow now but somehow Fushimi felt as though the hint of desperation was still there, the hands that grasped at him and the tongue that pressed against him almost reverent as though Munakata was trying to commit every inch of Fushimi's skin to memory through nothing more than touch and taste. 

Fushimi felt Munakata press him down onto the bed and there was a sudden scramble of hands and mouth, Munakata removing the last of Fushimi's clothes as Fushimi's own hands tugged at Munakata's. In the dim light of the room he still make out every detail of Munakata's body, all smooth skin and dark hair and the obvious curve of an erection between his legs. Fushimi could feel his own hardness throbbing slightly as Munakata's tongue ran down his chest, biting lightly at one nipple. Fushimi arched his back, letting Munakata's hands and mouth work at him and he thought he could see a glimpse of something shadowed in Munakata's eyes. 

_(If the mission failed tomorrow they would not be able to come back here again, and in the darkness above Munakata's head there was still the Sword of Damocles, crumbling.)_

He wasn't sure why the thought had crossed his mind but suddenly Fushimi was painfully aware of it, the way Munakata's fingers lingered on his skin a moment too long, ghosting over his erection but not quite touching and Fushimi couldn't help the way his hips jerked forward slightly in anticipation of the expected pleasure. Munakata didn't even seem to notice, mouth still warm on Fushimi's chest, one hand slipping downward to push Fushimi's thighs slightly apart. 

“Relax, Fushimi-kun.” There was no shake in Munakata's voice but it wasn't quite the same as it had been during their usual trysts either, something thicker and heavier beneath the words that made Fushimi's heart pound. He could feel the edge of that desperation in the air, the desire he knew all too well and hated beyond everything, that need to grasp onto something that was destined to be destroyed. 

_('We who are about to die,' is that it, Captain?)_

Fushimi's mouth crooked in a cold smile that was lost to Munakata's insistent kiss. Then Munakata was pulling back, reaching towards the bedside table for a small tube. He glanced at Fushimi again and Fushimi was keenly aware of his own nakedness and of the unmistakeable hardness between his own legs. 

“If you do not wish to continue we will stop here.” Munakata's tone was unreadable, impossible to tell if there was hope or disappointment there, and Fushimi took a breath. 

If he hadn't been fully aware of what Munakata was asking before he was now and it made his heart pound slightly. They hadn't gone this far before together and Fushimi hadn't gone this far with anyone, unable to shake the feeling of violation, of weakness, of _vulnerability_ inherent in allowing oneself to be open so fully and taken. 

Still, he found himself nodding, waiting. Munakata accepted it with a slight inclination of his own head and he unscrewed the cap from the tube, coating his fingers fully before leaning over Fushimi again. It took only a gentle nudge to get Fushimi to open his legs further apart and there was a sudden spike of panic that Fushimi couldn't control and swallowed down, meeting Munakata's eyes steadily as Munakata's fingers brushed against his entrance. 

“Mmph..” Fushimi couldn't help a small whimper as one of Munakata's fingers pushed itself inside him. There was a slight shiver of pain and Fushimi bit his lip against it – normally he didn't mind a little pain, bites and scratches, but this was an entirely new feeling and he wasn't quite sure he liked it. Part of him felt like there should be something...invasive about all of it, Munakata's fingers teasing at his insides, the feeling of being clenched tight around something, but Fushimi couldn't quite gather his thoughts and he only arched his back slightly as Munakata pushed further inside. 

“Are you all right?” He heard Munakata's voice as if spoken through a filter and Fushimi nodded, not quite trusting himself with words. The last thing he needed was to hear a tremble in his voice, traitorous – and he would have laughed at that if he could find the breath for it, that the person who changed clans and colors as easily as changing clothes should consider something as simple as a shaking reply _traitorous._ Not loyalty but feelings that betrayed him, and he wished there was breath to laugh. 

_(Changing colors like changing clothes, Munakata's eyes dark and piercing above him and he knew right there how he'd been caught and it wasn't at all that easy, wasn't at all that painless, that word that stained him not really meant for him at all.)_

Munakata didn't make any show of reaction to his lack of reply, only pressing another finger inside. There was a slight increase in pressure and Fushimi rocked his hips a little in response to it, mouth partially open and breath coming in short gasps. Munakata's free hand reached up and stroked his cheek, a calming motion that Fushimi hated with every fiber of his being. He didn't need this to be gentle. 

Munakata's fingers crooked slightly inside of him and a sudden jolt of pleasure ran through him as Munakata brushed against his prostate. Fushimi couldn't stop the small gasp of surprise that escaped his lips and he heard Munakata chuckle quietly. Munakata slowed his pace again, two fingers sliding easily in and out of Fushimi's entrance and one hand braced against Fushimi's inner thigh as Munakata pushed Fushimi's legs further apart. Fushimi writhed slightly in the sheets as Munakata brushed against his sweet spot again, unfamiliar pleasure shaking through him again and a feeling of being not invaded but _filled._

“Captain...” He just managed to get his mouth to form the words. His cock was throbbing almost painfully, flush against his stomach and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out against the unfamiliar sensations sweeping through him. 

“Yes, Fushimi-kun?” Munakata's voice cut through the haze and Fushimi's glasses were blurred with sweat so that he couldn't make out Munakata's face at all. There was something amused in the tone though and as much as he wanted to hate it Fushimi couldn't, not when the alternative was that melancholy desperate thing from before. 

_('We who are about to die,' and he wouldn't think it, not again.)_

“Just...already...” His mouth wouldn't work the way he wanted it to and Fushimi cut off with a gasp as Munakata's fingers brushed against his prostate again. His cock was already leaking pre-cum against his stomach and Fushimi's fingers clenched against the sheets as though he could hold himself together that way. 

“Already...?” Munakata's voice was low and thick with something raw that Fushimi wouldn't let himself place. Munakata leaned forward so that his lips brushed against Fushimi's bare hip, eyes closed as his tongue tasted Fushimi's skin. “Tell me what it is you want, Fushimi-kun.” 

“You bastard...” Fushimi grit out and Munakata's fingers pressed into him again, so sudden and rough that it made him gasp. Of course Munakata would choose _now_ to toy with him, when he had Fushimi spread out and open like this, no way out, and still it was better, better than dwelling on this touch as being the first and the last they would have. 

“I wish to hear you say it.” Fushimi couldn't tell if Munakata was mocking him now or if it was simply a sincere desire, and part of him wondered if Munakata wasn't sure either. 

“Put it in.” Fushimi forced the words out. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I want you to _fuck_ me, Captain.” His lips curved upward in a sardonic smile at his own words and Fushimi heard Munakata laugh again, heard it and felt it with the cool touch of Munakata's breath against his skin. 

“How vulgar. But, as you wish, Fushimi-kun.” Munakata leaned up again, his mouth gentle against Fushimi's but unbreakable as well, not allowing Fushimi even a moment's breath, as if suffocating and grasping at the only air he could find. Fushimi bit at his lip as Munakata's fingers widened him again, impatient for Munakata to stop prepping him already, and Munakata's free hand roamed along his lower hip, tracing circles on his skin. 

When Munakata entered him it was slow and deliberate, sinking into him inch by inch, and Fushimi's quiet gasps were swallowed by Munakata's mouth as he leaned over, one hand stroking Fushimi's cheek. In the dark of the room Fushimi could see the shadow of concentration in Munakata's eyes as they swept Fushimi's face, looking for any sign of discomfort, and Fushimi leaned his head back and breathed deep until Munakata was inside him completely. He could see the slight tremble of his thighs and it irritated him, and Munakata's hands steadying against his shoulders only made it worse. There was that feeling of being filled again and the definite vulnerability to it besides – naked and legs spread with Munakata between, hands on bare skin and breath warm on his face and no way to move, no way to escape, and Fushimi tried to focus on his breathing. 

“You can move.” All the annoyance Fushimi could manage he sunk into the words and still the tremble of his thighs betrayed him. 

_(And there it was again, that word, and he suddenly loathed it more than anything)._

“Are you certain?” It was hard to place that tone still, concern and lust and something like despair, and Fushimi huffed quietly. 

“It's fine. I'm not going to break, Captain.” And if the last words sounded almost reassuring it was entirely an accident, not intentional at all – that Munakata should need reassurance from _him_ of all people, when Fushimi was the one walking on new ground here, that was ridiculous. Beyond that it wasn't as if the _Blue King_ should ever need that sort of thing, not that person whose confidence and straightforward belief never wavered. 

_(The Blue King never needed such things but Fushimi wondered sometimes, about Munakata Reisi.)_

Munakata might have laughed, impossible to tell with his face still half-buried in the crook of Fushimi's neck, and his fingers brushed at Fushimi's hair as Munakata kissed him lightly on the forehead. Fushimi squirmed slightly at the intimacy of it – this was just sex, after all, and he didn't intend to attach any more meaning to it than to the quick sessions they'd had with hands and mouth before now. He would rather Munakata be rough with him, quick and to the point like they had always been, and the sudden care for the condition of his body made Fushimi feel lightheaded in a way he didn't at all care for. 

Then Munakata moved, pushing deeper inside of him and Fushimi couldn't stop the quick gasp of pain that turned into half a moan as Munakata's cock brushed against his prostate. Munakata pulled out slightly, leaving only the head inside before thrusting in again, quicker than before, and Fushimi's head fell back with another moan. Munakata pressed a soft line of kisses along his neck and then down to his collarbone, pausing at that mess of charred skin that Fushimi had never before allowed him to touch. 

“It's fine.” The words were low and gasping, cut off by another whimper as Munakata hit his spot again, harder this time, and Fushimi could barely hear his own voice. Munakata made no sound at all but Fushimi felt his tongue against the scarred flesh at Fushimi's collar, sucking slightly at the wound, and a sharp jolt of pain ran down Fushimi's spine. Munakata's teeth scraped the skin and it took all the control Fushimi had left not to press his arms around Munakata and force his head down, make him sink his teeth into the flesh until it bled. 

Munakata's hands steadied themselves against Fushimi's hips, the smooth curve of bone fitting itself neatly in his palms and the fingers dug just slightly into his skin, massaging his sides as Munakata continued to push inside him in slow deliberate motions, each thrust sending another shock of pleasure through Fushimi's body. It was nothing like what they had done before, the feeling of being absolutely filled, his walls pressed tight against Munakata's cock that buried itself deeper inside his body with every movement. Fushimi's own length was throbbing and swollen and the only thing keeping Fushimi from grasping himself was the need to keep his hands tangled in the sheets of Munakata's bed lest he be swept away by the sensations sweeping through him. 

Munakata seemed to sense his feelings, as one hand let go of Fushimi's hips and gripped the base of his cock instead, stroking upward at the same time Munakata thrust into him. Fushimi's mouth was open and dry, each panting breath a struggle and a shake and he couldn't see anything at all, his body feeling completely out of his own control in a way that should have made him feel terrified, should have made him desperate to stop, and yet all he wanted was for Munakata to speed up, faster and harder and _deeper,_ to fill him so completely that he wouldn't have to linger on the emptiness he knew was hovering just beyond the door. 

Munakata's hand continued to work at his cock, encircling the head lightly as one finger swiped across his slit. Fushimi could hear the slight hitch in Munakata's breathing, something wordless beneath it that was held back and Fushimi threw his head back as his walls clenched around Munakata's cock. He heard something like a moan escape Munakata's lips, low and guttural and clearly unplanned, and even in the midst of the heat and the haze Fushimi smiled slightly. 

It was clear they were both reaching their peak now, Munakata's movements increasing in pace and frequency, an almost frantic press towards climax and the hand pumping Fushimi's erection began to feel almost painful on his skin. Fushimi could feel the release building up inside of him and then Munakata was leaning down and kissing him again and that was what finally pushed him over the edge, Fushimi's entire body shuddering hard as he came. Munakata's own release followed a moment later and he grunted quietly as he emptied himself inside of Fushimi. 

They both lay there for a moment in the aftermath, breathing hard and leaning against each other, and then Munakata steadied himself against the bed as he carefully pulled out. There was another small jolt of pain accompanied by a slight sticky feeling and Fushimi didn't even want to think about the mess they had surely made of the sheets and each other. There was a part of him that only wanted to get up and _get out_ of there, go to the nearest shower and run the water over himself until he stopped shaking, but it was overridden by the sudden mix of weariness and almost _contentment_ that swept over him. 

He felt the slight dip of the mattress as Munakata settled himself just behind Fushimi on the bed, one hand reaching out to stroke Fushimi's sweat-soaked hair. Fushimi didn't have the energy to bat him away and instead he let his head drop against the cooling mattress beneath him. His fingers were still clenched in the sheets and Fushimi stared down at them, white fingers like ghosts in the dim light of the room. 

“If you wish to leave, you may,” Munakata said quietly from behind him. His hands were still methodically stroking Fushimi's hair, almost absently, and Fushimi inclined his head just slightly without actually turning around. 

“Don't expect me to be the one making the walk of shame back to his own room,” Fushimi muttered darkly and was somewhat gratified by the amused chuckle he got in return. “This is your fault, you could at least let me rest here for the night.” 

“As you wish.” More amused than anything and Fushimi felt the sudden need to turn and face him, to grab Munakata by the wrist and ask him what the hell all of this was about anyway. 

He didn't, though. Fushimi curled his fist into the sheets and let his eyes begin to slide closed, body relaxing with Munakata's hands in his hair. 

_(And he knew this was dangerous, this sudden easy closeness and intimacy between them, when tomorrow's destiny was unknown but he was too tired to resist and Fushimi allowed it, and hated it.)_

“Regardless of what happens tomorrow,” Munakata's voice murmured quietly from behind him just as Fushimi was dancing on the edge of sleep, “I do expect you to come back to me at the completion of your mission, Fushimi-kun.” 

“Don't be an idiot,” Fushimi said drowsily, not able to manage any real bite behind his words. “I won't fail.” 

“Even so.” Munakata's hands ceased stroking his hair for just a moment and Fushimi had the distinct impression that Munakata was deciding whether or not he wanted to say anything more. Fushimi was about to close his eyes again when Munakata finally spoke. “If the Slate is taken tomorrow, I may have to say words to you that I do not mean. That being the case, I wish for you to keep this in mind: I do not send you on this mission lightly. I fully expect you to carry out the mission to the full extent of your abilities and then return to me unharmed at the completion. You are, after all, the one person I cannot afford to lose.” 

Fushimi's eyes snapped open and for a moment he felt as though he couldn't breathe. His mouth formed words for a reply but no sound came out, and instead Fushimi found his own hands reaching up to grasp Munakata's, clenching around them for just a moment before letting go. 

_(We who are about to die and that was all it was, sentiment from a fatalist, and he wouldn't believe in any of it.)_

_(But still.)_

Fushimi gave a soft click of his tongue and he heard Munakata laugh quietly in reply, arms wrapping around Fushimi's chest and pulling him close. Everything in Fushimi screamed to pull away – dangerous, it was surely dangerous, but he'd swallowed the poison and there was no clearing it away, not this time – and instead he found himself relaxing against Munakata's touch. He could feel Munakata's breathing steadying behind him and Fushimi whispered the words into the air. 

“You too, Captain.” 

“Fushimi-kun?” Strangely lost, almost, and Fushimi knew that if he tried to laugh it would come out as a choke. 

“I expect you to come back, at the completion of the mission.” 

Munakata shifted as if surprised and then a hand closed over his, squeezed it slightly. 

But Munakata didn't reply. 

– 

The cold air bit as his skin as Fushimi walked through the city in the dark. 

_(“You're used to being a traitor anyway.”)_

He knew those words were lies. It had been part of the plan, right? They had discussed this, had planned for this. 

_(“You're used to being a traitor anyway.”)_

All part of the plan. He was to betray Scepter 4 publicly so that he could join jungle. The fight had to be convincing, in case jungle had spies listening in on Scepter 4's communications. And it wasn't as though Fushimi hadn't done his own part, hadn't levied his own harsh words against Munakata in order to provoke him to this. 

Even so, the words ringing in his head made his fingers curl tight around his PDA, made his entire body shake with something deeper than cold. 

_(“You're used to being a traitor anyway.”)_

_(“You are, after all, the one person I cannot afford to lose.”)_

The sky was heavy with thick gray clouds and Fushimi's vision felt blurry for a moment, the falling snow wet on his cheeks as he took a deep breath and continued walking. 

“Fine, then I'll become a traitor.” 

His hand clenched tight around the PDA and the screen glowed green. 

_(“You are, after all, the one person I cannot afford to lose.”)_

Whether there had been truth to those words or not the only way out now was forward, and Fushimi closed his eyes and tried to forget the sensation of warmth that still lingered against his fingers.


End file.
